Poetry Forum

Dave Archuletta - all messages by user

3/27/2011 12:20:58 AM
Two Winters of the Snow Fence	I am the author who has just started to write; I think my stuff is a little cornball-ish. Is it just me?
3/27/2011 2:51:53 PM
Two Winters of the Snow Fence	thank you julie, i'm learning [at least i think so...]
3/27/2011 4:47:26 PM
Two Winters of the Snow Fence	hi julie, i hope you dont think that youve created a monster. i tried to improve, and it seem to work, flow better. i promise nt to bother, but is this revise headed in the right direction, anyone? i got thick skin...
3/31/2011 10:36:29 AM
Love's Coup De Grat	*With a simple act of tracing my face* *She had knighted my soul* *Sustained - by the given of innocence and grace* *With a fingertip placed on my forehead like a sword set on point* *Life promises inferred* *I then assured* *We would both share together in acquaint* edited by Dave Archuletta on 3/31/2011 edited by Dave Archuletta on 3/31/2011
4/2/2011 10:12:13 AM
Is this prose poetry, narrative or a madeup story	Through Eyes that Bind It is through the eyes of my infant child that seen humility as a can of whoop-ass to make us see our selfish nature: Regardless of my argued reasons that justified leaving for weeks, and then making a triumphant return home, my intent was to make atonements for being a missing father to my infant daughter. However, it was after holding her high above me and our eyes had met, when this reunion, in an instant had left me feeling badly. *My sadness drew born because her face held without an expression of joy in the welcoming of me home.* *This is when a simple act by this child instantly humbled my very being and left me feeling ingratiated by her presence.* *Epiphany from such striking means of enlightenment could evermore not of happened in same silent manner!* It had occurred while I was still holding her aloft just slightly overhead. This is when slowly; my daughter began outlining of the contours of my face with her downwardly extended hand. Upon finishing and raising it up and back under her chest, it wasn’t but an instant after what came next that I knew something special had transpired – with a life-changing profoundness… …It is still my belief that the intent of this baby daughter was that I see and feel this same hand’s tiny pointing fingertip, now accusingly come down slowly until out of view to gently place upon my forehead - seemingly to stay forever. *A sense of fear had now swept over me in the form of analogy…* I hadn’t seen my daughter in weeks, and in this vision her extended forefinger and thumb had transformed into a sword with hilted guard and unseen pommel attached to a wide shaft with two razor sharp edges plummeting to a pointed tip. *This was my inferred life arraigned and put to the question of life’s promises made!* *I had to come back to this daughter…; if not - what would be her fate? – Or my own?* I momentarily closed my eyes, being shortly thereafter recognized by me as nuance of subjugation. Incredulously, upon an unmasking for restored sight, occurred a vision instead, there was her innocence that had let my mind see! *It happened upon lifting this fingertip that became her sword’s point; she then laid the finger flat on my nose and smiled a smile.* *This was not a Coup de Grat arraigned; my daughter had just knighted my soul sustained!* edited by Dave Archuletta on 4/2/2011
9/15/2012 5:26:09 PM
prose?	Adoption is, or is it not? …these beautiful spring roses, the chosen from a colorful garden of trust. Yet, from where each cut stem lay in angelic caretaker's worthily hands, now by appointment all shown on pedestals and as if heaven sent. Near Godliness are they - these angels loosed amidst our humanity, each searching for pinks and blues of human spillage. Delicately they assist society in the dredge of waiting collection ponds, pools that gleamingly mirror you and I and from where memory comes familiar siren-like cries of which, now link our distant lost or the coldly not in want… Adoption is, or is it not? …these beautiful water lilys that float so serenely above an ever skimming conscience of a God-fearing nation; this polarized complacency so sweet of mesmerizing shimmer and without inkling of shame, all innocence of eyes fail to see transparency, as each persue cannot pierce the murkily veiled mire that hides just below a given watery reflection, and where trails this triad’s tangled web that will soon unravel singular - to root long waited consequence…
9/15/2012 5:26:37 PM
prose?	this is not an attack
1/31/2013 3:22:48 PM
Wrongful Adoption is Obstruction of Justice	A Tape Worm of Time - All it takes, is to cite a preventative line Yet still, all is absolved, like a tapeworm with the passage of time As it's an adoption that slowly goes awry With questions simply never asked, heard or reasoned why Have left parents simply never to see or in the know Blind as to why their child's smile had to die
11/15/2015 2:50:36 PM
Quote criticism	"Having a good sense of direction in life is being able to smell a few tomorrow's cup of coffe today"
11/24/2015 7:45:26 PM
Does this make any sense as for the power held in	Skilled debate? Truth or the sting of consequence will always show as a battle won or lost by conviction. The skill of spoken confidence held over inarguable debate. "He did'nt, she could've, I will, if needed, can evict in full, a most precious brood from gripping clutches of their still awaited mothering - The Pearl belonged of the Black Widow spider!" edited by Dave Archuletta on 11/24/2015
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